


Touch

by Pastel_Teacups



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Cute, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-20
Updated: 2014-02-20
Packaged: 2018-01-13 03:08:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1210423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pastel_Teacups/pseuds/Pastel_Teacups
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jehan's a very touch-oriented man. Courfeyrac is his newest cuddle-person.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Touch

Jehan was a very touch-oriented person. 

Anytime he was around his friends, he was constantly seen touching them in some way. Holding hands with Fuielly, hugging Bossuet and, on special occasions, sleeping on Enjolras’ shoulder. 

He was almost always settling against someone’s chest or on their laps, but nobody minded. They all knew how harmless Jehan was, and they knew better than to waste their jealousy on him. 

It was a long day spent by the Amis in Enjolras’ flat, and nearly everybody was working through the night to put together plans and flyers. 

Courfeyrac was sitting on the sofa by himself while he put together the next flyer, mumbling something about “labor laws” and that Enjolras should be paying him for his dear devotion to the cause when he could be out doing something else. 

He glanced up when Jehan stopped next to the sofa, looking tired. He’d shown up to the flat in his pajamas, and didn’t look content to change for the rest of the day. 

Jehan watched him silently for a moment, before crawling onto the sofa and and lying down, his head falling onto the man’s lap. 

His hair was unbraided, the blonde strands fanning out over Courfeyrac’s worn jeans. The brunette smiled slightly and ran his fingers through the long strands of gold, watching the way Jehan closed his eyes and nodded slightly. 

“Do you want to go to dinner?” He asked suddenly, surprising both himself and the poet lying against him. 

Jehan’s green eyes opened but he didn’t reply for a moment. Then, he did. 

“Sure. Can we go in a few hours, maybe? I’m just a bit tired, that’s all.” 

He yawned and settled again, his head still against Courfeyrac’s lap. The brunette only nodded and smiled, fondly threading his fingers through his hair. 

Jehan fell asleep that way, curled next to Courfeyrac, small formed tucked against his side. When he woke up, Courfeyrac had fallen asleep also, a hand still tangled in Jehan’s blonde hair. 

It seemed dinner would have to wait.


End file.
